Dumb – Chew Me Up, Spit Me Out review

Having attracted the attention of BBC Radio 1 and NME, it’s clear that when it comes to music, Dumb are anything but. Birmingham’s up-and-coming quartet released their latest offering on August 18th via One Beat Records/Tip Top Recordings, and considering its borderline repulsive title, it’s remarkably appealing. Below, you can check out the music video for the third track off the record.

The five track record crammed into sixteen and a half minutes launches open with Retina, establishing a cool and controlled, alluring vocal, which at its most prominent sounds like a mash-up of Jake Bugg and Brian Sella (The Front Bottoms), and at its weakest becomes fuzzy behind the music. Heavy, hazy riffs layer up over a drumbeat that invites a mimed impression, and the result’s a lurching, abstract and wild opening.

Addictive vocal work still plays the lead part for Dive, with the grunge meets beach-pop haze texturing the track to sound more exotic that Birmingham would suggest. In fact, the gravelly vocals and a reckless enthusiasm put this on a different level to your standard current English “rock band” trying to stand out. Dumb don’t need to work to stand out, their addictive hooks and masterful talent make them impossible to ignore.

Still I’m Stuck (video below) marks the midpoint of the release, with the seemingly more controlled vocals building up against the repeatedly chaotic backing, as Super Sonic Love Toy marks the return of the glorious haze the trademarks the songs. Intricate progressions refuse to slow the track down, with the vocals stepping up the game to leave you hanging on every word.

A sobering (lyrically and musically) start to the debut’s finale, Two Bottles, gives way to a sentimental and typical closer, decorated with backing vocals and touching lyricism, whilst not losing the blind but rightful confidence which declares their appeal. It’s impossible not to fall in love with the seductive and striking honesty of this debut offering.

This EP is proud, reckless and a promise for a new face in modern Brit-rock.